


Love Song

by sdwolfpup



Category: due South
Genre: Inspired by Music, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-04-27
Updated: 2007-04-27
Packaged: 2018-11-06 18:09:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 521
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11041506
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sdwolfpup/pseuds/sdwolfpup
Summary: It’s a routine by now, well-worn and comfortable, but there is a moment every time, when Ray is stirring in the cream, that Fraser wonders how many cups of coffee it will take.





	Love Song

**Author's Note:**

> Written for ds-aprilfools

_Intro_

Fraser brings Ray coffee most mornings. Black, with a small plastic cup of cream on the side that Ray can pour in himself, because Fraser likes to watch Ray stir it in, likes the way his wrist moves in quick, steady motions. The handoff of the cup is one of the many ways Fraser gauges Ray’s mood for the day: does he give a swift, pleased smile before rushing into Welsh’s office? Or does he simply, wearily, wave at his desk while his head remains bent over some file?

It’s a routine by now, well-worn and comfortable, but there is a moment every time, when Ray is stirring in the cream, that Fraser wonders how many cups of coffee it will take.

 

_Chorus_

It is Ray that Fraser always finds first when he enters the squad room. Not always by sight. One time, Fraser knew where Ray was simply by the size and flow of the crowd clustered around Welsh’s door. Most often it is Ray’s voice that Fraser picks up on first. That first second he hears it, Fraser tunes to it, like a message on the wind sent just for him. Fraser smiles, too, he’s come to realize; he always smiles in that moment, however briefly. But he covers it up, because smiling would make Ray curious, and the last thing Fraser needs is Ray’s curiosity about this.

Today Ray is on the phone, so Fraser hands over the coffee cup and takes his seat across the desk and listens to Ray and tries not to smile.

 

_Bridge_

It’s early morning and they’re in the Riviera, parked in an alley near the pawn shop they had been staking out. They’re kissing, a little awkwardly. Fraser isn’t sure how they got from calling in the successful resolution of their stakeout to here, each half-turned in his seat and leaning forward to meet in the middle. He doesn’t care. Fraser has one hand pressed into the dashboard to support himself because he’s dizzy with the brush of Ray’s tongue. His other hand is bent and trapped against Ray’s body, but Fraser doesn’t care about that, either.

Ray’s lips taste like coffee and cream.

 

_Chorus (Repeat)_

“Well that’s just great, Elaine, you’re such a help,” is the first thing Fraser hears when the squad room doors swing open. He smiles and finds Ray at the file cabinet.

“Good morning, Ray,” he says, holding out the cup of coffee, plastic cup of creamer in his other hand.

“Morning, Benny.” Ray takes them both, smiles when he looks into Fraser’s face. “What – did you discover some new weird Canadian sport to inflict on the world?”

Fraser follows him back to the desk, sits down in the chair across from Ray. Ray is stirring his coffee: quick, steady motions with slender wrists that Fraser knows he can circle with his fingers. Ray is talking about the case on his desk, bemoaning the fact that not even miniature golf is safe anymore, if the dead body found at the local Magic Putt Putt is any indication. Fraser is still smiling when he meets Ray’s eyes.


End file.
